Crimson Failure
by ShadowGraffiti
Summary: The equations appeared impossible. The codes appeared unreadable. And Charlie, their last hope, appeared to have attempted suicide... But things aren’t always as they appear.
1. Prologue

Description: It was unsual for blood to shock Don. The crime scenes no longer turned his stomach or made his head spin like they had once done... but this time was different. This time, it was not a stranger's blood. It was Charlie's blood.

A/N: Yay! My first NUMB3RS fic! Read and enjoy

**Crimson Failure**

**by ShadowGraffiti**

Numb. Everything. There was nothing. Just numb… Don wasn't aware of his father's screaming behind him, the stuttering declare of calling an ambulence... His eyes stayed fixed on one spot, but his eyes could not process what he was seeing. He was devoid of any and all thoughts, a sense of nothingness descending on him.

And suddenly, it hit him. It was like a rush, flooding his veins and pulsing through his body until it consumed him. The scene before him began to process in Don's head… Charlie, just lying there, so still… so serene... like an angel, as if he were only asleep... But the image was countered by the blood that pooled around him, running from his wrists as life slowly ebbed away.

Don wanted to escape it all, fight it, make it go away… He wanted it all to go away… He tried to stop the images, but they would not leave. Charlie... he was so pale...

He collapsed to the floor, an involuntary cry escaping his lips at the contact. Though he did not understand, it was as if his barrier of silence had been broken. Now, different cries were flooding Don's throat and pouring out his mouth before he could stop them, but they were not the same. They, too, were filled with pain, but it was the pain he felt inside. They were sobs, each ringing with the emptiness inside… the part of Don that had been ripped away, never to return, nothing but a hole that would stay there forever. He felt nothing but cold, cruel betrayal...

And regret.

_"I just need time to think..."_

Charlie's voice chorused through Don's head, and it frightened him. He began shaking my head, squeezing his eyes shut.

_"I won't be up there long..."_

He put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the memory, shaking his head even more.

_"You don't have to worry about me, Don. I just want to think."_

"No… no… no…" he began to whisper soft denials. Tears began to spill from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, and his fingernails were digging into his scalp from where he held his ears so tightly. "No… no…"

_"Trust me, Don."_

His head exploded with pain while everything inside faded away. His head spun, and white-hot pain seared through it, consuming all he felt. Memories danced across his mind… him and his brother, laughing together, oblivious to everything else. He had been so happy… so happy…

And now, it was gone. Everything. His life was over. He had left. He was gone forever…

More memories shot through Don's head.Charlie's face and his voice would not leave Don's mind. He could not bring back the numb he had felt. He could not block it all out. He could not force the memories to leave. He could not chase the reality away…

And he could not bring Charlie back.

They had become so close. They had spent so much time together, the first opportunity in their entire lives to relate to one another. From the embarassing accidents that always insue when you spend so much time with someone to the joy Don felt when he saw Charlie beaming from a compliment… Charlie had always loved making Don proud...

And it had been shattered. Shattered, like Don… like his hope as it had fallen to the floor… fallen to where he now sat amongst the ruins. He remained in the middle of the impossible puzzle, tears burning down his face for every time they had spent, every time they had laughed, every time they had joked, every time they had talked…

"Don..."

The voice was so tiny, he almost dared not believe it. His eyes snapped open, shock and disbelief ringing in his mind. Through blurred vision, Don found himself staring into Charlie's dark eyes, robbed of their usual glint. They no longer held the impossible depth of some uncomprehendable genius, but instead a shallow surface of pain. Just pain...

"Charlie, why...?"

The younger brother seemed to dissolve into a child, tears cascading down his cheeks to match Don's own. His lips trembled, eyes filled with something of a wild terror. He swallowed, trying to speak, but his body had not the energy to form the words. He seemed so small... so weak... so denfenseless...

In an instant, Don was on the floor, pulling the younger man's head into his lap and cradling the thin frame. Through blurry eyes, he saw the blood on the floor, covering the bathroom. He did not have to see the slit's in his brother's wrists. He knew.

"Why, Charlie? Why did you do this?"

Charlie let his eyes slide shut, head bowing in defeat and resting on Don's chest once more. He could comprehend nothing but despair, tearing at his mind and gripping his throat. Desperately, Charlie wanted to tell him the truth... but he couldn't. His body didn't have the energy to form the words. He knew Don was whispering to him again, but he had lost the will to try and comprehend.

"Don..." his tiny voice rasped, sheer desperation echoing through his tone, but he knew in his heart that it was too late. His life was ending, and with him would die the answer to the question they had all been asking. Only he knew, and it was too late. Their opponent had been too organized. Charlie had taken too long to crack the code, and now, it was too late.

"Don..." he spoke once more, voice weak and powerless. "Don... I'm sorry..."

And then, he was gone.

-

A/N: First chapter, so yes, this will be continued... and if anyone would like to know the big 'Why?', please, please review! Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 1

hugs you all

Hehe, Shadow has a surprise for the Charlie fans...

Also, I would like to add that I am not a supporter of suicide. This story started as something of an emotional piece a week ago when my small community lost a valuable member to suicide, and i eventually turned it into a plot and a story. In no way do I support suicide.

Midnight Dove - Teehee, thank you so much! I can't imagine any amount of talent making up for the absense of Charlie... lol! Thanky for your review!

KatSuyA - Aww, don't cry! Cliffies are evil, yes... but neccesary. Teehee, thanky for your review!

jwmathias - I hope I can present Don in a less-dull manner than you have percieved him ; Hope you will still read, and thank you for your review!

Roses - Why, why why... unfortunately, my whole plot is about the 'why' Have fun! Lol, teehee, thanky for your review!

anonymous - Thank you so much for the compliments! Teehee, read to find out why! Thanky for your review!

Kat - 'I don't understand why this keeps getting glorified' If you're referring to my writing, I don't really have anything to say... If you're reffering to suicide in general, then I tell you now that I in no way mean to glorify suicide. I apologize if that was how you took it. Thank you for your review!

Sabrina - Teehee, read and find out! Lol, confusing summaries are always fun... teehee, thanky for your review!

ladc - I'm glad you like the start... and hopefully, you will keep reading Because, you know... who could kill off Charlie? hinthint Lol, anyway, thanky for your review!

SharpShooter626 - Read on to find out why! And no... I don't think it is quite possible to kill off Charlie... lol, teehee, thanky for the review!

Phaze - I'm so glad to have you as a reader! It's an incredible show... CBS, Friday nights. I'm glad you like it so far! Thanky for your review!

Pellawethiel - Thank you so much for your compliments I try to achieve emotion without overdoing it... so your review made my day! Thank you for your review!

theamazingtechnocoloredringwraith - Firstly, I like the name! Secondly, no, you can't kill Charlie! Lol, thanky for your review!

LeoDiabla - I'm glad you know you found it 'powerful'! Why? You'll have to keep reading Thanky for your review!

CCG - Why? Once again, you must read on! Interesting theory! And don't worry, I LOVE long reviews! Glad to know you're interested! Thank you for your review!

Honestly, your reviews make my day. Thank you all so much! I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

"Why?"

Don had been asking himself the same question for three days. Three days, he had racked his brain, and everytime he came to a conclusion, it was not what he wanted to believe. Everytime, it wound down to a conversation between him and Charlie... and for a brief moment, he would decide to blame himself. Then, the grief would become too much, and he would search for something else to explain.

"Why, Charlie? Why didn't you talk to us?"

But, of course, Charlie couldn't answer. Charlie was in a coma.

The doctors had said Charlie would not make it through the night, and if he did, he would certainly die the second night. For some reason, though, Don had held on, refusing to pull the plug on his little brother... and by some miracle, Charlie held on as well.

"I don't know why he's fighting so hard to live," a nurse said, appearing next to Don and startling him from his thoughts. "People in comas from car accidents, yes, I've seen them fight this hard... but not someone who tried to kill themselves. It's strange that he clings to life when ending it was what got him here in the first place."

"Will he make it, though?"

Don stared at his brother, seeming so small on his hospital bed, surrounded by IVs and monitors. It was an odd thought, but everytime he looked at his brother, he was reminded of an angel. Charlie was always smiling, always happy, always there to brighten their day... even now, as he lay barely clinging to life, he looked so beautiful. His dark curls looked boyish and innocent, as if he could sit up at any moment and blurt out something so utterly profound that the entire room would burst into laughter.

Or maybe that was just how Don remembered him.

"Such a morbid child," the nurse said sadly, shaking her head. "I could not tell you whether or not he'll make it through the night. Normal suiciders, no... but he's different. Maybe under all that depression, there is a will to live."

"Depression..." Don repeated, turning back to his brother. Was Charlie really depressed? He had to have been... "...so why do you fight so hard?"

Though he did not know it, his words did not fall on deaf ears. Below him, trapped under the dark fog of impending death, was a brave yet fragile soul. More than anything, Charlie wanted to open his mouth and speak, but he could not. He could console himself only in promises that Don would never hear.

'I fight because I have to,' he thought sadly to himself. 'I fight because you have to know the truth.'

Two weeks earlier, it had been a normal day. Special Agent Eppes was called and he called Charlie as well, knowing his genius brother would probably be needed anyway. Don watched with a strange fondness and protectiveness as his brother approached the scene. Charlie showed no outward emotion, but if one lookd into his eyes, they could see how disturbing the crime scene was the the mathmatecian. Don put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, smiling at him in hopes of comforting the younger brother.

Charlie, on the other hand, could not help being struck everytime there was a death. In losing his mother, he had learned how deeply death hurt. He would look at the corpse on the ground and see people crying... parents, children, family, friends... Everyone had a story. Everyone had companions. There would never be a death where no one was affected. No matter what, someone was going to grieve.

"Hey Charlie?"

He looked up, startled from his thoughts, his unique glimmer of innocence present in his questioning eyes.

"Would you like me to fill you in?" Don asked, a small grin playing his lips. For some reason, he still saw Charlie as a boy...

"Give me the data, I'll give you the equation," he responded with a heavy sigh, to which Don laughed.

"No, don't give me an equation... give me an answer. You can keep the equation," he chuckled. Charlie crossed his arms in mock-offense, sticking his nose in the air and turning instead to the officers in the area.

"Alright, where's someone who knows something? Ah, Officer Jennings!"

"We have a string of murders in the area, all of which are being traced to the same killer. He's wanted for as many as seven murders, two of which occured in the past week," Officer Jennings informed him, pulling out a notepad and scanning the page. "It says his name is Mike Curzon."

"Mike Curzon?" Charlie asked suddenly, eyes widening in shock. Officer Jennings and Don instantly turned to him, confusion in their expressions.

"Is something wrong?" Officer Jennings asked, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, Charlie seemed to fumble with his speech. Then, he shook his head of curls and smiled at the two.

"Nah, nothing. So how do we know the murders are connected?"

Charlie could see the curiousity in his brother's eyes, but he tried his best to ignore it. He knew it had not been the subtlest change of topics, but he hoped his brother would forget about it in time.

"Well... Mr. Curzon has left us distinct markings," Officer Jennings said with a groan. "You know... the class-A jerk that likes to taunt us? Take a look at this."

Officer Jennings handed him a photograph. Instantly, Charlie felt his stomach twist in disgust, making him regret the sandwhich he'd had for lunch, but he forced himself to keep a straight face. The picture was of a girl... or rather, the corpse of a girl... and carved into her skin were bands of numbers.

"They're equations," Charlie said instantly, causing Officer Jennings and Don to exchange glances. "I think it's clues. He's leaving us answers that he knows we won't understand until it's too late."

"Charlie, how can you know that from one photograph?" Don asked, eyes narrowed in puzzlement and his tone skeptical. Charlie sighed, but did not look up from the picture.

"Just trust me."

"Seven suspects and the name of the guy. Do you really need my help on this one?" Charlie asked, fidgeting slightly, trying to keep his tone calm. Don stopped to give Charlie a quizzical stare, then resumed tearing the map from the printer and tacking it to the board.

"What do you mean, Charlie?"

"Well look," the genius said, bounding up to the board and tapping the yellow zone, otherwise known as the "hot spot". "You know how to do this stuff without me. I just don't think you need my help on this one."

He knew immedietly that Don suspected something.

"Charlie, you used to beg me to help. Why is it you want to bail out on this one?" the older Eppes inquired, crossing his arms and bowing his head to show Charlie that he could not dodge the question. Charlie immediatley began fidgeting, looking as if he wanted to pace somewhere but could not decide which direction to go in, then halted abruptly and began itching his head furiously.

Don tried his best not to laugh.

"Just, I don't know... well... I mean..." Charlie clearly could not find the words to fit what he was thinking, resulting in more head-itches. Unable to contain it any longer, Don burst into laughter before patting his younger brother on the back and turning him towards the board.

"Look, Charlie," he said with a chuckle. "This is how that one case worked with the L.A. rapist. This case, on the other hand, is very different. This time, it is completely random... it is mathematically random."

Charlie sighed in defeat, knowing he had no way out.

"You said you were able to decipher messages from the equations left on the corpses," Don continued, watching in slight guilt as Charlie's head drooped even farther.

"Yeah..." was his only reply, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Look, Charlie. Innocent people are being murdered and this guy is taunting us. Human lives are not worth that. That's why we need you," Don said with a smile, hoping to catch his brother's gaze. To his dissapointment, Charlie merely shrugged before turning and heading for the door.

Charlie scribbled furiously across the blackboard, moving back and forth with an unusual nervousness, even for him. Then, his hand began to slow, sickening defeat evident in his eyes as he reluctantly wrote out the answer... the same answer he had gotten every time. Sadly, he circled the answer, then drew a line to the answer of his other equation.

There was no mistaking it. It was an equation with an answer that wound down to a single variable... and then, compiled with similar equations, each equalling a different variable, and lastly, the equation that compiled them in the correct order.

His childhood nightmare had come back to haunt him. The taunting word, whispered to him in the hallway before he was beat up or hissed at him during a speech in hopes of making him mess-up. The one, single word of challenge that struck him with fear even to write it on the board.

"Epic," he said out loud, and instantly, he could feel his throat closing up. A kindergarden taunt, taken from his last name of 'Eppes', living to haunt him. Only those who truly hated him had ever called him 'Epic' in the latter years of high school.

And no one had hated him quite so much as Mike Curzon.

-

A/N: Woot... Charlie lives! C'mon, did you really think I could kill him off in the first chapter? Heh...

Once again, your reviews make my day! Thank you all for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: So, so, so, SO sorry for the long wait! I had a research paper I had to write instead of this story... but now that it's turned in, i can focus my attention on this story fully.

Thank you to all my reviewers! Everytime I see the little e-mail from in my inbox, I smile. It really, really makes my day, and you all make me a better writer. Thank you.

Now let the plot-twisty story continue!

Chapter 2

"Well, he made it through another night," Don said, forcing a smile that did not touch his eyes. Terry stared at him a moment, as if trying to read his face, then hung her head.

"I'm so sorry Don. I know how much this hurts you," she said sympathetically. He responded with another emotionless smile.

"It doesn't make sense, though. They say he's fighting as hard as someone involved in an accident... you know, the person who wants to live. He's fighting as if he wants to be alive... and then his attempting suicide makes no sense!"

Terry put a hand on Don's shoulder and instantly, he dropped back into his emotionless state. She opened her mouth, most likely to offer words of comfort, but they were interrupted when Walt Merrick appeared.

"Hey, Don. Any new data from that brother of yours?"

"Charlie attempted suicide four nights ago," Terry replied with a tone as icy as her glare. "So no. There is no new data."

"Eh, shame. He was brilliant. Anyway, did he leave anything behind for you, Don?"

Terry looked as if she might attack him.

"I could look... but I never understand his equations," Don replied with careful detatchment. "He kept writing 'Epic' all over everything... it has to be written around the office ten times... but I don't know what that means."

"Could it be a mathmatical term?" Terry asked, eyebrows furrowed as she turned to Don. "You know... like 'Legend' refers to a key on a map..."

"It was what the kids on our block used to call Charlie to tease him," Don said, sighing heavily. "That's the only usage of the word I know."

"Well, that doesn't help our case," Merrick told them matter-of-factly. "Keep looking. We have absolutely nothing to pinpoint Mike Curzon. We need a lead, now!"

As Merrick walked away, Terry shot him yet another glare before turning back to Agent Eppes.

"Don't worry about it, Don. You've got a lot more on your mind," she spoke softly, once again resting a hand on Don's shoulder. "How about we go visit him after work today? You look like you could use some company... and I want to make sure you actually go home and go to sleep!" She ended with a joking tone, hoping to light the mood, and to her satisfaction, Don gave a small chuckle.

"Yeah... I've gotta get home to stay with Dad anyway. He needs the company," he replied, the subtle misery returning to his eyes. Terry sighed heavily, hanging her head, and then did something she rarely ever did: She hugged Don.

"I'm always gonna be here for you," she told him, stepping back and smiling... and when he smiled back, a true, geniuine smile, it left Terry with a feeling of accomplishment that lasted her the entire day.

"It makes no sense!" Charlie cried, his fist falling against the chalkboard in a defeated manner. He hung his head, his breath coming in ragged gasps, a hidden glimpse into the disturbed turmoil of his brain.

"Charlie? Maybe you should sit down..." Amita said carefully, taking a step towards the mathmetician. In the years they had known eachother, she had seen very few fits of rage from Charlie; they were enough to scare her into an extra bout of caution as she approached him.

Luckily, Charlie chose to take her advice and sank down into the closest chair.

"Another murder... and now it makes sense," he growled, tapping the chalk against his head in thought. He opened his mouth to rant, but suddenly realized that Amita was not understanding a word he was saying. He promptly got to his feet and strode up to the board. "Ok, look here... this equation? It was from the previous corpse. It corresponds to C, am I correct? The corresponding number, however, is 2..." Charlie furiously circled letters and numbers, then drew lines between them, and Amita squinted at the board in careful consideration. Charlie then turned to his files and pulled out a piece of paper. He used a pen to circle a number, then showed it to Amita. "C corresponded to 2. C stood for Children, and the murder from yesterday has two of them."

"He left you clues on the body of the previous corpse as to who he would be killing next?" Amita asked, raising an eyebrow, but Charlie began itching his head furiously. It was a tell-tale sign of his frusteration.

"But why? Why would he do stuff like this? How many people in L.A. have 2 kids? Why is he going by that?" Charlie asked, pacing the small space between the board and his desk. "It makes no sense!"

"Well, let's take a different approach... this here? Epic? You have it written all over..." Amita trailed off. There was something in Charlie's eyes she had never seen before: Terror. It was merely a passing glint, a shadow, just a brief shine in his eyes... but it was definate. In one moment, Charlie became a child huddled in a corner, shielding his face from the people around him. He didn't understand why they were hurting him. He didn't understand why they liked to cause him pain. All he knew was that he was good at Math, and Math never hurt him like this...

"Charlie? You look pale..."

"I don't know why it all leads to Epic," he replied firmly, cutting Amita off. He wasn't lying either. Epic had been used so many times to taunt him... but why was Mike writing it now? Why...?

When Don and Terry reached the hospital room where Charlie was held, it was already occupied. Larry was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his chin balanced on his hands. He looked almost normal, as if he was on some train of thought about his latest theory... except, of course, for the tears that ran down his face.

"I just don't understand..." Larry said without looking up. Don gave a small laugh that did not touch his eyes. He couldn't agree more. "He had everything going for him. He had a brother like you, a good family, friends, a future, a girl..."

"Where is Amita?" Don asked suddenly, jerking his head up. Terry, who had been lost in thought, was slightly startled by the movement. She was puzzled to see Don's eyes alight, the way they were when a new question surfaced in a crime. "She and Charlie were close... real close. I haven't seen her since... since it happened."

"Oh, I don't know..." Larry responded, shaking his head slowly. "I haven't paid attention to anything these past few days. She might have talked to me a thousand times and she might have not talked to me at all. I just don't know."

There was no one in Amita's appartment that night. She had vanished without a trace.

A/N: bum bum bum... Well, once again, I apologize for the long wait. I already have the next chapter written, so it won't take nearly as long... as long as you all review Please, PLEASE Review!


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I just want to take this time to thank my reviewers... you guys honestly make my day. You are the reason I keep writing All of you were SO supportive and so enthusiastic... it just made me want to post immediately!

I especially want to thank Dreamboat. You left one of the most honest reviews I've ever seen, and it meant the world to me. It really snapped me back into the world of writing and made me realize what I'm trying to achieve with this story. Thank you so much

I love all my reviewers!

Chapter 3

Why?

That was all Don could think. It was a question that had consumed his mind and forced him into an endless loop of despair. He felt betrayed, lost, hollow... but more than anything, he felt like he had failed. He had failed to protect his little brother from reality.

It felt like Charlie had been there forever. Yes, of course, they had always been brothers... but they were complete opposites. Charlie was the little brother that made the parents smile. Don was the older brother who had to learn to make it on his own. Charlie had it made, but Don had to find his way by himself. He had to make a name for himself...

For years, even the sight of his brother made him cringe. Did he love Charlie? Of course... they were brothers. But did he like Charlie? No.

_"Hey! What's goin on? What're you doing here?"_

_"Making sure you don't take complete and total advantage of Dad!"_

Why had he tried so hard to make his brother feel inferior? Why had he wanted to prove himself to be better than Charlie? Why... why did he waste all those years competing?

Because when the competition finally faded, he found his best friend.

Charlie was everything to him. Charlie was his friend, his partner, and above all else, his little brother. He had wasted so many years of being a big brother... he never let Charlie play baseball with him and his friends. He never let Charlie come in his room. He never let Charlie into his life... but Charlie always wanted to be a part of his life. His little brother just wanted to help.

So many years of shielding a naive, curious, brilliant little mind from the world, he had wasted. Why hadn't he seen it before?

Don let his head fall against the window, the glass cool against his skin from the rain outside. Perfect... it was raining. The dark skies mirrored his sorrow, his very soul drowning in a rain of memories. Memories of Charlie...

_"Merrick just feels threatened because you ran your own office,"_ Terry's voice played in his mind. It didn't make him feel any better, though... even from the beginning, it was only Charlie that could brighten his day.

_"You know, I don't know a lot about mathematics, but this doesn't make any sense to me..."_ Merrick had tried to tell Charlie, but the bright-eyed genius would not be challenged.

_"Makes more sense than this,"_ he snapped back, pulling a lottery ticket from Merrick's shirt-pocket. Despite Merrick's haughty retort, Charlie continued to smirk triumphantly. As the young genius went on to explain that the odds of Merrick's winning, Don felt himself suddenly overwhelmed with pride... That was his little brother standing up to the office jerk (and winning, no less). For the first time in his life, Don felt proud that Charlie was his brother.

And from there, the affection had only grown.

But Charlie had grown too, hadn't he? For the first time in his life, he was faced with reality, and it was as if he finally grew up. Charlie had gone from the small, timid mathematician to a normal human-being. At first, all it took was for Don to be grazed by a bullet because he was at the scene Charlie had predicted and the young genius had gone into reclusion. He wasn't able to face reality...

And yet, just a short tim later, Charlie was the one who was almost shot. A sniper had aimed at Charlie's head and pulled the trigger. Statistically, Charlie was dead. Statistically, they were both dead. And yet... they returned to the crime scenes together again and again.

Charlie was no longer a child living in his father's house with no perception of reality. Charlie was a regular in the FBI office, browsing through files and telling Don what he could and could not help them with.

_"...right, but with Chaos, there's no telling where a case will lead... and there could be mathematical applications I can't detect yet,"_ Charlie had explained to Don one night, a gleam of pride in his eyes. It was slight, but Don caught it. It was not Charlie's pride from his math... it was Charlie's pride from being able to help his older brother with his math.

_"I love that about you,"_ Don stated quite simply. He had meant it though... for the first time in his life, he loved his brother as a friend, too. Charlie had been so confused... and yet, he looked so happy. He was proud of himself. And Don was proud of him too. For the first time in their lives, their worlds had intertwined.

So why... why hadn't he seen this coming? Why hadn't Charlie talked to him? Why...?

Was it because Charlie faced so many years alone? Was it because the mathematician had grown up with no older brother to talk to? Was it because the reality was just too much?

He hadn't trusted Don. He had a reason not to trust Don. Don wouldn't let Charlie trust him for almost thirty years. Who could blame him for not trusting Don now?

"Charlie... I'm so sorry..." Don spoke quietly, opening his eyes to the stormy world beyond the window. The rain splashed against the window, mirroring the tears that ran down his face... the despair overflowing his body and spilling down his cheeks... the regret that threatened to consume his entirety... the pain...

The world was spinning. Spots were dancing before Don's eyes. Before he knew, he was on his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps and then rushing from his lungs in choked sobs. He let his body fall against the wall, a shaky hand covering his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm so sorry... Charlie... Why...?"

**&&&&&**

"Charles? Are you all right? You're not working on P vs. NP again, are you?" Larry asked cautiously, gazing around the garage. Charlie jumped nearly three feet in the air before turning to face his colleague. He sighed in relief--why, Larry had no idea--before setting his chalk down.

"No, I'm working on a case for Don..." he said softly. Larry peered around the side of his friend and discovered equations written again and again... variables circles again and again, each of them equaling a value. Papers were scattered across the floor when red circles on them, and some were taped to blackboards where letters and variables rested.

"It looks a bit more... complex, might I say? Mathematical?"

"It's the murderer," Charlie replied softly. "Mike Curzon. He was good at math. Now he's using it in his murders... mathematically discovering random spots for his murders and leaving clues and codes in equations on corpses..."

"Well that certainly doesn't sound very pleasant," Larry stated, shaking his head and squinting at the blackboards. He had found the pictures of the equations on the corpses, and it made him want to vomit. "Charles, are you sure it's a good idea to be working on this? You've been staring at the mutilated flesh of dead people for two days. That's not healthy."

"But the time I spend doing something else is time Mike can use to kill his next victim," Charlie responded as his voice escalated to just short of panic. He had turned to face his colleague, his eyes wild and expression desperate. Larry sighed, rubbing his forehead; he knew Charlie was at his wit's end. The genius had turned back to the board and was occasionally scribbling random numbers and variables, but mostly, his chalk was simply hovering tensely over the surface of the board. Larry recognized instantly that this was the sign of a dead end for Charlie. He could go no farther, but something in his young mind was screaming that he could. Larry knew the genius had to stop, or he would go out of his mind.

"Charles, I hope you remember that you have a class to teach tomorrow. You cannot neglect your responsibilities because of this... Until the FBI specifically hires you, at least," he explained, resting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. For a moment, a loaded silence hung in the air... but then, Charlie's shoulders dropped, his tension released. He smiled at Larry, and the elder man knew he had won. "Now how about you sit down. I brought us some dinner... When was the last time you ate, anyway? Wait, never mind... I don't think I want to know the answer."

But by the time Larry returned, however, Charlie was fast asleep in his chair. Larry shook his head in disbelief of the young mathematician, but he could not help smiling. Charlie really was a one-of-a-kind.

**&&&&&**

Alan had tried to cook dinner for them, but he had not the heart... and what he did make, the two Eppes simply pushed around their plates. The room was filled with an eery silence, empty and hollow without Charlie's usual ramblings. The deep despair in Alan's eyes seemed to burn through Don, reminding him of how much he had let his family down. Alan and Charlie had been so close...

Don couldn't take it anymore. Alan didn't blame him. The younger Eppes murmured his thanks, rinsed the uneaten food from his plate, then headed for his room. His mind was not with him as he climbed the stairs. He did not feel anything as he twisted the doorknob and walked into the room he had always had in the Eppes's family home. He did not think as he walked to the mirror and slowly began to look up.

The face that looked back at Don was ghastly pale, but the eyes were red and puffy. His hair stood at odd ends, and his clothes hung sluggishly on his body. Don watched himself, watched as his chest rose and fell…

He was breathing. He was living. He was still here…

But Charlie… Charlie was barely alive. Charlie was lying in a hospital bed, unmoving, unable to even exist on his own. The bright-eyed genius with a heart big enough to fit everyone had suddenly been torn from their lives, and no one knew if he would ever come back. Why was it that this happened to him? Why did he want to leave? Why didn't Don see it? Charlie had only just found the happiness in his life, and he'd been torn away. Why? Why wasn't he allowed to finally live in his newfound world behind his numbers?

Don watched his chest rise and fall again. Then, he watched as his face twisted in anger and confusion, and his fist slammed into the mirror. Don made no attempt to move as the broken glass fell around him, slicing his bare skin open. The pain… it felt good. It felt relieving, because for a minute, he did not feel the mental pain. he only felt hurt on the outside, and it gave Don a wild sort of relief. He stepped away, almost laughing as his bare feet met the broken glass. As he fell onto the bed, he could feel small, red rivers running onto the covers, and it allowed a wild grin to creep onto his face as he crawled forward.

Moments later, Don's distorted joy had faded, and as he let my head fall into the pillow, he began to scream. Don screamed like he never had before, filling his lungs with emotion and then letting them burn through his throat. Even when it stung, Don continued, because again, physical pain helped take away the mental pain. Yet no matter how much he hurt, or what he did, Don could not force Charlie's smiling face from his mind...

A smile he had only just learned to love.

**&&&&&**

Amita let her eyes rest on the solemn figure of Charlie, and instantly, she could feel her eyes brimming with tears. It was nothing new; they were red from days upon days of crying. Her face was gaunt, her appearance disheveled, but she found she could care less.

Why did it matter if Charlie wasn't there?

"Charlie... I'm so sorry!" she choked, collapsing into the chair beside his bed. "You told me... but I was too scared. I thought you were making it up... or that you had done your calculations wrong..." Amita let her head drop, her body racked with sobs as her face twisted in pain. "But you were right... Charlie, you were right! Why did you only tell me? Why..."

Dry heaves took over her small frame; she had not eaten in days. Her vision was always spinning, regret and terror eating away at her mentality. No matter what she did, all she could think of was Charlie. She could not talk to anyone... her guilt was too great. Charlie had warned her, but she had been to afraid to break her promise and tell Don.

And now, Charlie was almost dead.

"Please Charlie... please hang on!" she pleaded before a shaky hand covered her mouth. Tears were spilling down her cheeks, draining her body of its last resources. For days, she had not talked to anyone, or even been back to her apartment... she had slept in CalSci, wherever her despair took over and forced her to the ground. She knew she was not safe...

"No matter what, Amita... if something happens, I want you to run, and you can't look back."

"I'm running, Charlie," she choked, barely opening her glassy eyes to gaze at his unmoving figure. "I'm running, just like you made me promise... but I don't want to run anymore. I'm tired of being alive..."

His calculations, the cut-off phone call with him the night it happened, his warnings... She knew there was no place she was safe.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be here... but I had to see you. You're all I have left, Charlie... until someone else knows what I do, I can't face them. You're all I have... and I'm sorry..."

Softly, gracefully, she pressed her lips to his forehead, her tears splashing onto his face and running as if they were his own. They could have been... tears of a sorrow that had consumed him from the moment he heard her voice. It was a sorrow awoken by her apologies... the apologies that came from guilt and regret so great that it spilled from her eyes and onto his face, or from her mouth and upon his ears. He heard her...

And from somewhere beneath the fog of impending death, Charlie had forgiven her.

**&&&&&**

**A/N: **Wohoo! Finally, more posted... I hope this chapter was better than the last. I really tried to put as much emotion into is as I could. I hope it's evident This was an everyone-else's perspective chapter... next chapter will be very focused on Charlie. I just needed the mystery to develop a bit more.

Please review. Reviews are what motivate me to keep going.


End file.
